


Divine Retribution

by MysticRyter



Series: Fire Emblem AU [3]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: F/F, and Gant gets what he deserves, in which Ema Skye is op
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 02:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15014525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticRyter/pseuds/MysticRyter
Summary: Two years ago, Ema Skye and her sister sought refuge in Kurain Village. Two years ago, a fire ravaged Kurain Village, and it had been two years since Ema last saw her sister.As Apollo's ragtag team searches for the halves of the Fire Emblem, their journey takes them back to Ema's old home. A place she'd like to forget.And yet, she can't bring herself to pass up the opportunity for revenge.





	1. A Song of Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third installment in the Fire Emblem AU series! You don't necessarily need to read the previous works to understand what's going on, but I would recommend it for the sake of worldbuilding.
> 
> Catch me on tumblr @lawyersuperpowers!

The night was a quiet one, save for the crackles of the dying fire and the low tones of Klavier’s somber humming. The last four nights had been devastatingly quiet since Phoenix gave himself up. Trucy still sobbed herself to sleep, not that Ema could blame her. The younger Skye sister went through much of the same after that fateful night in Kurain Village two years ago.

It was too much, she supposed. Even if Klavier’s voice spurred them onwards on the battlefield, it didn’t seem to do a lot for them now.

Phoenix Wright wasn’t a particularly bold presence nowadays. Everywhere he went, it was his reputation that did the talking for him, though Ema could make an argument for the man’s spiky hair. Whatever the case, he still left a big impact on their group. She knew Phoenix wasn't Trucy's biological father, but they loved each other just the same. Even more than that, he gave Trucy and others a ragtag family. He did have a penchant for picking up orphans.

Trucy had it worse. Trucy didn’t know if Phoenix was still alive either. As much as they were on the run, Ema was fully aware of the target on the man’s back, and who knew what the Ortans would do to him now that they had their hands on him. The Dark Flier could relate. It had been two years since she last saw her sister, and she had no idea if Lana were alive or dead. All she had was Lana’s black pegasus and an unwavering faith that kept pushing her forward.

The amount of dead or missing family members among the group was depressing.

As the majority of the group fell asleep, or at least stopped stirring, Ema tossed another spark into the woodpile. She volunteered for first watch more times than what was probably her fair share, and after ignoring Kay’s suggestions (okay, Kay’s  _ insistence _ ), the ninja stayed up with her. Normally, Phoenix would volunteer himself (he had a knack for that sort of thing, whether it was for first watch or surrendering himself), and it was his age that kept everyone else from immediately disagreeing. Young enough to be able to sacrifice sleep, and old enough to give the “dad look.”

Plus, if Ema stayed up, she could get some more practice in. Better to be prepared than to be trying out the scientific method on the battlefield. 

Ema wasn’t concerned about her lancework. As tricky as handling a Bolt Lance was, she had it long enough to figure out the real power was in the magic, not the metal. Her wind magic was coming along too. She might not be that talented of a mage, but she doubted not even the highest Ortan arcanists could claim they could whip up a fierce gale while locked in a steep nosedive on a pegasus. Wind magic was widely regarded as the weakest of elemental spells, but  _ damn  _ was it useful.

No, she wasn’t worried about that either.

Her pegasus, Blue— _ Lana’s pegasus _ —was a heavy sleeper. Waking him up after the sun already set was a hard task. Slipping a thick tome out of the satchel hanging off his haunches wasn’t going to be a challenge either.

Ema was never a fan of fire magic. It was hard to control like wind magic, but with more raw, devastating potential. It lacked the precision thunder magic had, blistering and broiling, leaving a wide swath of destruction. 

She met the wrong side of a blade on more than one occasion, but those encounters left thin marks that healed cleanly. Fire was a different beast altogether, snarling and snapping, hissing and searing. Those kind of scars could be hidden, but those blistering marks never truly faded no matter how much time had passed. Even then, Lana had a gift for fire magic, but there was a particular spell she favored.

Bolganone was a peculiar spell. Many a scholar classified it as fire magic, but it never behaved like a beast to be restrained, where a single instant of distraction cause a catastrophe. To Ema, Bolganone felt like a power in her gut, a pressure yearning—but not fighting—to be released. Although the more she thought about it, maybe that was just because she couldn’t actually cast the spell properly yet.

According to the books she read when she was younger, Bolganone summoned a geyser of lava, which sounded terrifying enough on its own. The sheer power behind such a spell was nearly unfathomable to Ema, and Kay was skeptical herself despite their close encounters with flame. Even most well-versed scholar strayed away from Bolganone like it was dark magic, something arcane and almost forbidden.

That didn’t stop it from being Lana’s favorite spell, one can she could call upon with a curl of her fingertips. It wasn’t technically dark magic; unlike light magic or elemental magic, it was almost always summoned from something like a tome, otherwise the cost of casting it was simply too . . . high. It wasn’t something Ema liked to think about.

Ema dashed several yards away from the campsite. She was close enough to see the flickering fire, but far enough not to wake the others on the off-chance she managed to do more than just make the ground bubble. At this point, the others were used to finding weird patches of earth dotting a circle around the campsite. She flicked open the red leather-bound tome, and on cue Kay landed silently next to her.

“It’s kinda more fun when people flinch when I do that.” Kay wrinkled her nose, tugging at the length of scarf wrapped around her neck.

“Old tricks don’t tend to impress.” Ema stepped a few paces away, raising her hand. She didn’t expect much for this attempt either, but science taught her to be wary of outliers. “Of course, I don’t think you’d want me to wake up the others. We just got Trucy to sleep.”

“Hm. You’re right.”

“What else is new?”

Kay snorted, rubbing her nose. She settled against a tree, sliding down to plant herself on the ground. While she usually didn’t have much to add in the ways of improving Ema’s technique, Ema was still grateful for the moral support. The company was never awful either. 

_ Breathe _ . Ema told herself.  _ I just need to breathe. _

She cradled the spine of the tome in the palm of her hand, extending her other hand like she was reaching out for something. Something like the power behind the spell was something she could hold, something she could mold and shape. 

_ Breathe _ .

The feeling of a fire spell was unique. Wind felt like pins and needles,  _ cold  _ pins and needles that tingled and spread from the base of her neck to her fingertips, like a thawing stream in the springtime. 

She could never quite understand how Lana could make a smattering of sparks with a wave of her fingers. From experience, she knew fire magic was a different beast altogether. In Ortan schools of magic, apprentices would learn how to conjure a single spark. Once they could control fire, thunder and wind came easily. Magic was alive, like any other creature, but Fire was by far the most unruly.

The magic started from her stomach, bubbling and simmering like a pot coming to a boil. The feeling spread in ebbs and flows, just barely willing to be contained. Not for the first time, Ema wondered how pure fire would feel. Anyone could learn how to start a campfire, and someone could learn to cast an ember just as easily. Easily enough to say, burn down an entire  _ village _ —

_ Breathe. _

The smoke was everywhere. It was hot, blistering hot. She could barely feel the comforting pressure of Lana’s hand around her own. Her sister’s other hand was wrapped tight around the reins of her pegasus—

_ Breathe _ .

Everyone was screaming. The children were crying. Did they find Lana and her sister? Did  _ he  _ find them?

_ I can’t breathe. _

Lana’s hand slipped out of hers, pushing Ema onto the saddle, urging her not to look back. 

_ I can’t breathe _ .

Ema was clinging on to the reins, trying to turn around far enough without throwing herself off the saddle. Lana had disappeared into the thick, hazy smoke, and Blue started galloping. 

_ I can’t breathe. _

The stupid pegasus wouldn't stop, no matter how much Ema tugged at the reins and screamed. Blue’s wings unfurled, and with a single flap, they were launched into the dark sky.

_ I can’t breathe _ .

“Ema!” 

Kay had pushed herself off the ground, launching herself at Ema. The tome had fallen out of her hand, and Ema had sunk to her knees. Kay rubbed soothing circles on Ema’s back, for once keeping her comments to herself. This wasn't the first time this happened, with Ema flashing back to that night in Kurain Village wasn't exactly an uncommon occurrence. But Ema being Ema would be too stubborn to stop until it was time for the second watch. She'd master the damn spell if it was the last thing she'd do.

“I'm okay,” Ema breathed, allowing Kay to help her to her feet. “I'm okay.”

_ No,  _ Kay wanted to say.  _ You're not. _

But the only thing stronger than Ema Skye's pride was her persistence, her resolve.

So Kay picked up the tome, brushing imaginary dirt off the crisp leather, and handed it to Ema.

“I'll get this spell,” Ema swore. “I'll master it.”

Kay didn't doubt it.

She kept a watchful eye on Ema, as well as the shifting stars in the sky. Once again, Ema managed to get a patch on the ground boiling like water in a kettle, but no lava. The others in the group stirred occasionally. It was getting close to switching to the second watch, meaning they had to wake up Klavier and Apollo soon.

Apollo had been insistent on taking first watch. Everyone knew that, after Phoenix, Apollo was the de facto leader of their ragtag group. Apollo was well aware of that too, insisting on taking first watch. Ema and Klavier had shot down his idea almost immediately. Even if Apollo’s insistence came from something like pride or a need to prove himself, they were already running themselves ragged. 

The last thing they needed was their leader to pass out on the battlefield.

So he conceded with taking second watch before Kay knocked him out with whatever ninja moves she had up her sleeve, unless Clay somehow intercepted her. Ema threatened the poor guy with zapping him with her magic (not that she figured out any kind of sleeping spell). In the end, Klavier beat her to the punch, practically swooping the poor archer off his feet. 

Normally, Apollo put up a fight. The fact he closed his eyes immediately meant he was pushing himself harder than normal, which was still saying a lot.

Unfortunately, they were all pushing themselves hard. Too hard. Between Ema, Clay, and Klavier, they had enough mounts so the little ones didn't have to brave the hike (wherever they were going), but even their natural energy was beginning to wane.

It didn't help that they weren't sure what their goal was anymore. Sure, they were wandering from place to place, trying to survive, but Phoenix constantly hinted at something else, with cryptic words and what felt like half-truths. Like he felt like it was something they should know about, but he wasn't quite sure it was the right time to bring it up. And he constantly hinted that it (whatever  _ it  _ was) was so much bigger than them. Like it had to do with that night in Kurain Village two years ago, and that one way or another, they were all connected to that incident.

It was too much to think about, especially this late.

Ema sighed, shutting the tome with a heavy  _ clunk _ . It was time to wake up Apollo and Klavier for second watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'll do my best to keep a consistent update schedule (my goal is weekly), but we'll see how that goes


	2. Home Is Where Hell Is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dramatic title could only mean foreshadowing. This chapter's to ease into things and do some worldbuilding.
> 
> Speaking of worldbuilding, Ortus/Ortans refers to one kingdom (populated with people you could recognize as prosecutors), and Helianthus/Helianthites is the other (the "defense attorney" kingodom).

Getting up was a struggle, as per usual. Not that it had anything to do with how she kept waking up with Kay wrapped around her, her breath and heartbeat grounding her back to the earth (which was cozy). Or that she was still just tired, the ache in her bones the kind that made her body feel like lead (not cozy). Or that she could still feel something like the lingering traces of a fire spell she couldn’t master, one she feared she could never master (that made her want to crawl back into bed, not that she had one).

They had another long day ahead of them, wandering aimlessly around the continent. Silently, Ema cursed Apollo’s own enigmatic silence. Even though he was a few years her junior, he was still an effective leader on the battlefield, his age giving him a charisma that had already eroded away in Phoenix. Well, that wasn’t  _ entirely _ true. Phoenix was charismatic in his own way, with a sense of humor found in a father, like he was bumbling on purpose just so he could annoy his kid. Apollo was earnest. and honest. He was younger and inexperienced, but he felt like he had something to prove. He was well aware of the weight of the many lives he carried on his shoulders, and led with his words. Scientifically speaking, it was a dangerous combination, one that helped them take their enemies by surprise for every skirmish they fell into.

Not that it changed Ema’s mind about their current situation. If Apollo didn't tell them any new info, she was going to  _ lose it. _

Breakfast was the usual. And by usual, she meant whatever they could find nearby. If they were camping on the edge of a town or village, they could've pocketed some fruit that fell on the ground or stale bread. They made a habit of drying whatever meat and fruit they could find. 

This time around, the group found themselves deep in a forest. While they didn’t have to worry about offending shopkeepers or dodging Ortan and Helianthite soldiers, food would be a bit harder to find. Luckily, the lot of them had some experience hunting or foraging.

Ema spent most of her young life under the harsh tutelage of Lana’s mentor. Lana herself took the brunt of her mentor’s punishment, but the man was still interested in Ema’s fledgling potential. It didn't help that the arcanist was a high-ranking general in the Ortan army. 

After that night in Kurain Village, Ema got plenty of experience surviving on the fringes of society. She wasn't quite sure why Kurain was attacked, but there was always that fear in the back of her mind that the arcanist was always watching her somehow. 

Ema knew what dark magic felt like, but that didn't say much about the scope of it. The dark arts themselves were shrouded in layers upon layers of secrets. She wouldn't be surprised if there was a spell the Ortans used to watch them from afar.

It wasn't just her though. Maya had the same suspicions, though she made a point not to discuss them when Pearl and Trucy were around. It wasn’t fair to the little ones; they were burdened with enough as it was. 

Klavier and Apollo had always been a little paranoid. Kristoph Gavin had been such an integral part of their lives, been such a valuable mentor at one point or another. There was a good chance that he knew the two of them better than Apollo or Klavier wanted to admit. Phoenix did mention now and again that Kristoph Gavin liked to keep a close eye on his associates (which, according to Klavier, meant anyone who was unfortunate enough to  _breathe his air_ ), and he wasn't bothered by using any means necessary to do his dirty work.

That wasn't a pleasant thought either.

Ema and Kay took to the skies, searching for a stream. With luck, they could replenish their fresh water supplies and catch some fresh fish. The Feys would be responsible for foraging, while Apollo and Klavier would be out hunting. Clay and Trucy would watch the campsite. It was a solid routine, but still, they found themselves scraping by for food most of the time.

“There!” Kay’s voice broke through Ema’s dreary thoughts, bright and clear as a wind chime. She was pointing somewhere to the northeast.

Ema followed her finger, squinting to see past the morning sun. She spotted a stream weaving through the earth like a glittering snake.

Ema grinned. “Good eye.”

Snapping the reins, she urged Blue to ease them to the bank of the stream. Or at least, that was the plan. Blue whinnied, tossing his head.

_ Oh no. _

The thing about Blue was that he was a rather ornery pegasus. Ema couldn’t deny that he was a loyal and reliable partner in battle, but out of battle was a completely different story.

Blue tucked in his wings, pulling himself and the girls on his back into a steep nosedive. Kay screeched, looping her arms around Ema’s waist and pressing her face into her back. Ema’s cheeks burned, not that she minded that anymore. She was more bothered by the need that Blue felt the need to be a . . . wingman, for lack of a better word.

She wasn’t going to complain about the outcome, but did her own pegasus think that she wasn’t capable of making a move on her own?

Not her pegasus. Dammit. It was getting harder for her to keep that distinction in her mind.

Blue landed himself with an unnecessary jolt, shaking out his mane with something Ema could describe as pride, letting out a whinny that sounded like a laugh. What an asshole. 

Kay, ever the show-off, vaulted off, while Ema slid off the saddle. Pulling a woven net out of one of the bags sitting on his haunches, they got to work. Well, really it was more like Ema doing most of the work. With her magic, she could fill up the net in under an hour. Kay was moral support, as always. Plus, she could practice using simpler spells without using a tome. If they could ditch the tomes, that would free up space in their tiny, meager, pathetic convoy. Well, _convoy_ was a strong word. It was less of a cart or a wagon, and more of the collection of bags on everyone’s mounts.

Ema grinned, cracking her knuckles. She mastered most of the basic spells and could cast them without a tome. Sure, Kay could parkour across the battlefield, but this was Ema’s turn to show off.

Tugging at the cuffs of her gloves, Ema flexed her fingers experimentally. Tendrils of lightning struck the stream, faster than the blink of an eye, and Kay whooped as fish dotted the surface. Grabbing the other end of the net, Ema conjured a blast of wind, catapulting Kay to the other side of the stream. 

The catch was a decent one. There was enough for a good breakfast, and Ema guessed there would be plenty to dry out for rations later. The net was still dripping, but Ema and Kay were able to secure it to Blue’s saddle without a problem. 

Like gears in a well-oiled machine, Ema climbed onto the saddle, turning around to offer Ema her hand as she put a foot in the stirrup. They took another second so Kay could loop her arms around Ema’s waist, and with a flick of the reins, Blue took to the sky again.

Landing back at the campsite, Ema heaved a sigh of relief. It looked like the others had good luck with their hauls too. The younger ones clapped and bounced excitedly, getting to work. 

“What’s the plan Apollo?” Ema asked. It was as good a time as any to drop the question. He had been silent since Phoenix was captured (or maybe  _ gave himself up  _ was a more accurate way to phrase it). Ema and the others had slowly watched him blossom into a leader—only to wither back into simply wearing a mask of confidence. 

Apollo had been quietly nibbling away on his food, tensing as everyone else looked at him. It was kind of a dick move, calling everyone’s attention to him like that. But he was dancing around every other question, and the team couldn’t operate without trust.

“Where are we going?” Ema pressed. “Do we even have a plan now? Do  _ you _ ?”

Yeah. Dick move.

Apollo swallowed, keeping his eyes on his feet. “I—I think so?”

“You think so?” Kay asked. “Apollo, you’re not giving us a ton to work with.”

“Yeah well, it's not like Phoenix gave me a lot to work with.” Apollo ripped the end off the jerky he was holding. Ema didn't think it was scientifically possible for someone to swallow aggressively. Somehow he managed not to choke. 

But still, they were getting somewhere. At least he was talking now.

“All he told me was that I shouldn't—we shouldn’t trust Ortus. Or Helianthus.” Apollo’s shoulders were practically tensed to his ears, and his knuckles were clenched so hard his fists were shaking. 

“Um, Apollo?” Clay’s voice cut into the tension, soft and deft. “I’m pretty sure we’re  _ all _ from Ortus and Helianthus. I don’t think you’re gonna be able to follow his advice.”

Apollo shook his head. “Not like  _ us _ genius!” He hissed, driving an elbow in Clay’s side. The troubadour winced dramatically, raising his arms and falling on his side. “He meant the people in charge. We all have first-hand experience about how . . . dark Ortus can be, but that doesn’t mean Helianthus is all sunshine and rainbows.” Apollo exchanged a look with Klavier. 

Right. Klavier’s brother was a meticulous planner with little regard for anything other than his own well-being and his own goals. Ever since Phoenix recruited Apollo (and Clay, by extension), Ema had the unfortunate opportunity of crossing paths with Kristoph. Frankly, she’d rather take on von Karma. Either of them. They were both pretty terrifying.

“Either way, we have a lot of people after us,” Apollo said, fiddling with an arrow. “But I don’t think they know what we’re after.”

“To be fair,  _ we  _ don’t know what we’re after.” Ema pointed out. “Phoenix never said anything after taking us in, and you haven’t been very forthcoming either.”

“Because it sounds crazy!” Apollo stabbed the arrow into the ground, his free hand tugging at his hair. “He knew Kristoph Gavin was after the Fire Emblem!”

There was a beat of silence before all hell broke out, mostly directed at Apollo. There was a lot of yelling, but before everyone could rush him or something equally stupid, he jumped to his feet. Frantically, he waved his hands in a desperate attempt to calm everyone down.

“The Fire Emblem’s just a legend!” Kay was twirling one of her knives, a nervous habit. “I mean, assuming dragons are even still around, what kind of power does it take to control them? Is that even possible?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Ema saw Pearl and Maya exchange a look. The older Fey cleared her throat, idly flipping through the pages of her tome. 

“The Fey clan has always been the protectors of the ancient lore,” Maya began. “We are—” She winced. “—Were the ones that passed down the legends of the Fire Emblem from mother to daughter. We passed down the legends of the dragons.” Maya shrugged. “I don’t know whether it was out of obligation or tradition anymore, but we did. There was one legend—it was more of a rumor, really—that there was a dragon that uh, hooked up with a human. It started spreading around the time my mom left so . . .”

“So everyone was after those records, huh?” Apollo’s voice was quiet. 

There was a hush as the pieces fell into place. Kristoph Gavin was responsible for leading the Ortans to Kurain Village. He was after the Fire Emblem, and he needed information. Pearl whimpered, clutching her staff. Trucy moved to comfort her.

“Well, my brother was always a big picture thinker.” Klavier’s voice was bitter. “Of course, he liked being in control of everything, down to the barest detail.”

“So what was Phoenix’s plan?” Clay had his head tilted to the side, the way he always did when he and Ema were messing with a new spell. “Try to grab the Fire Emblem before anyone else does?”

“There’s kinda a problem with that though,” Maya said. “The Fire Emblem is broken in two. One half lies in Ortus, the other is in Helianthus. It was too risky for Phoenix to go back to Heliathus, and only marginally less dangerous for him to head into Ortus. We just need one half of it to stop Kristoph.”

“Alright, cool. So we just get in without the Ortans noticing, get out with half of this legendary mythical artifact, and just evade Kristoph and the Ortans and literally everyone else until . . . what? We die?” Clay shook his head. “Sorry, but that plan sucks.”

“Hey Maya, the Fire Emblem  _ can _ control dragons, right?” Apollo asked.

Maya nodded. “According to the legends, yeah.” She rested her chin on the heel of her palm, looking upward as she lost herself in thought. “Theoretically, it can control anyone with dragon blood, but there’s only one way to know for sure.”

Apollo hummed to himself, tapping his forehead, one eye screwed shut. “So our plan is to keep the Ortan half of the Fire Emblem out of Kristoph’s hands, then watching out for any dragons is moot.”

Trucy, uncharacteristically quiet, was shifting into her mother’s cloak like she could hide in it. “But . . . what if he does get his hands on it? What if . . . what if he can control dragons? A lot of people could get hurt.”

“I know.” Apollo wrapped an arm around Trucy, pulling her into a hug. “That’s why we’re not going to let that happen.”

“Good,” Klavier said with a tired grin. “My brother would be absolutely infuriating with that kind of power. I’d never hear the end of it.”

Everyone managed quiet chuckles, but they were tired. But at least they were tired with some semblance of a plan.

“Do we even know where it is?” Ema asked. 

“Most of that information burned with Kurain,” Maya admitted. “Luckily, you've got me and Pearly.” At the mention of her name, Pearl perked her head up. “The Ortan half of the Fire Emblem is in the heart of a mountain. Specifically in the heart of the highest peak.”

Ema’s heart climbed into her throat. “The highest peak?” She croaked. 

“Uh yeah.” Maya crossed her arms. “I'm pretty sure. I'm certain, actually.”

“Ah.” Ema had trouble swallowing her breakfast. “Okay.”

“Are you okay?” Kay asked. 

“I'll be alright I think,” Ema said. “You're talking about Judgement’s Peak, right?”

Maya blinked. “Yeah. You know it?”

“You could say that,” Ema said. “I mean, I used to live there.”

Apollo sat forward. “You did? Is there anything you remember? People we should avoid?”

Ema snorted. “The mountain is full of arcanists, masters and students alike. The weather’s pretty harsh all year round. Mages settled there because they say it sharpens the mind and your focus. If we didn’t have to go there I’d say we should just avoid the mountain altogether.”

“Sounds like a nice place.” Clay comment through a mouthful of jerky. “No wonder you left.”

_ That, and other reasons. _

Apollo sighed. “I wasn’t sure what I was expecting. Anything else?” 

Ema hummed to herself, fiddling with the pink band tied around her head. Some of her hair had fallen loose. How annoying. “I think . . . I think we’re on the most direct route to Judgement Peak. The biggest problem is that there’s a fortress at the base of the mountain. Trying to skirt  around it would take too long.”

“So . . . expect another fight then?”

“Yeah. Especially with the Ortans mobilizing on us.” Ema winced. “Especially since we’re going into major dark magic territory. We need to make sure we’re on the top of our game.”

Apollo groaned, sinking onto his back. “Do you know how long takes to get there?”

“I’m not a human map, Apollo,” Ema deadpanned. “But considering how far from the border we are, I’d have to guess only a couple of days. Don’t quote me on that though.”

“Okay. Okay. I’m fine. This is fine. I can work with this.” Apollo sat bolt upright with a grin, punching a fist into his open palm. “We’re going to be fine!”

It was the vote of confidence they needed to gather the energy to continue north. Trucy wasn’t back to her usual self, and Ema suspected she wouldn’t be for a while. Apollo was still trying to fill a pair of boots Phoenix left behind, still trying to find his place in the world. And as for Ema? She kept to herself, hardly saying a word. After all, most of her focus was on trying to ignore the churning pit in her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is nothing but Faraskye, backstories, Faraskye, and worldbuilding.
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr @lawyersuperpowers!
> 
> See you guys next week!


	3. The Knight and The Ninja

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh angst? Fluff? Angst and fluff and faraskye? Yeah.

It was the next day into their travels, and it was now that Ema remembered they were on Ortan land, so obviously this was an Ortan fortress, filled with Ortan soldiers whose orders were either to capture or kill. Ema’s shoulders hunched as she wrapped Blue's reins around one hand, readying her Bolt Lance in the other. 

Evade was the plan. Laying low was always the plan. It was the first priority. They all knew Kristoph Gavin wanted Apollo and Trucy in his slimy clutches, but Ortus wanted them all dead. Ema herself was Ortan, and her stomach churned. These days, she found herself fighting more Ortans than not, but that wasn't what she was losing sleep over. The more she fought—the more they fought—the worse the feeling in the pit of her stomach became. Sure, those soldiers were Ortan, but in recent days they were . . .  _ fanatical _ . They were bloodthirsty, and they had no problem leaving the group for dead.

Well, most of the group.

It seemed like the Ortans were just as eager to get their hands on Trucy and Apollo as Kristoph Gavin was. Briefly, Ema had to wonder what it was like to be that popular. If anything, they could rely on the fact that the Ortans had to fight cautiously when it came to Trucy and Apollo.

If only they knew  _ why _ everyone was so interested in them.

The group made good time in just a day, so they could take a couple of hours to train. Clay was taking combat lessons from Maya and Ema, and Trucy was bouncing at the prospect of teaching Pearl. Maya herself was teaching anyone who wanted to learn magic from the Kurain tradition. It was interesting; Ema knew most of Kurain Village specialized in healing magic, but those that pursued combat magic harnessed the spirits of animals. Maya didn’t do it too often, as the incantations and symbols were written on scrolls that had burned. 

One of the biggest weaknesses of their group was that they had a shortage of people that used physical weapons. Most of their group relied on magic, which was effective against enemies that had no knowledge of the arcane. Judgement Peak would be a different story, and Ema wasn’t looking forward to it. If she had to guess, she was the only one who had any kind of experience dealing with dark magic. Apollo had grilled her about it while they walked, and despite forcing out some unpleasant memories free, the group came away with a better understanding.

A marginally better understanding, but it was better than nothing.

She tried to distract herself as they walked, polishing her Bolt Lance, taking a few practice swings, watching the lattice of electricity form arcs around her. She flicked out her fingers, allowing wisps of wind to coalesce, sparks of thunder, the tiniest embers. She watched Kay practice with her own weapons, twirling her daggers and catching them with dancing fingers. 

It looked like Trucy had been practicing her fire magic, pretending to breathe fire. With a huff and a puff, she conjured a burst of flame, shaping it into the shape of a butterfly, a rabbit, a pegasus. Pearl was absolutely enraptured, her hands on her cheeks with a bright smile.

Ema sighed. She was running out of things to distract herself with. Well, until Clay bumped into her with a good-natured grin. He started pacing backwards, spinning his staff.

Ema couldn’t help but laugh. “What are you going to do? Give me a concussion with that thing?”

Clay only shook his head, whipping out a hand and pointing a finger. Circles of magic coalesced around the tip before a thin bolt of lightning shot out. Ema grinned, raising a hand and swiping the magic out of the air, letting it dissipate in her palm.

“Not bad Terran!” Ema called, snapping her fingers. A small gust of wind smacked Clay right in the face, making his already cowlicky hair stick up more. “But you’ve got a ways to go before you’re a match for me!”

“What about me?” Ema spun around just in time to get blasted by cold air. Maya had a grin on her face and held up a hand. A tiny rat materialized out of the air, plopping on top of Ema’s head.

“Ganging up’s no fair!” Trucy called. She managed to turn herself around from the top of Clay’s horse. Puffing up her cheeks, she let out another huff, singing the edges of Clay’s hair, who let out a shriek. He started bouncing from foot to foot, furiously patting out his hair. Apollo let out an overdramatic sigh, but he let the tips of his mouth quirk up. 

And just like that, they were laughing. For just a little while, they didn’t have a care in the world.

Being in the middle of nowhere came with a few advantages.The most important being that, since they could stick to the forest most of the time, they could stay out of trouble.

They made it a fair distance before setting up camp. As usual, Ema and Kay volunteered for the first watch. They went through the usual routine, waiting for everyone to sleep so Ema could get to practicing.

Ema extended her hand, going through the incantations in her head again. Taking a deep breath, she focused on the tome, feeling a familiar rush of power to her fingertips. The rush built up, as if she could feel the magma beneath the earth, ready to burst. In that moment, she felt like she held the power to build mountains and rend entire continents in her own hands. 

There was a flicker on her fingertips, and runes blazed to life, encircling her hand. They smoldered, glowing like embers, and Ema could feel the magic pulsing in time with her heartbeat.

Slowly, Ema let a smile creep onto her face. In her peripheral, she saw Kay lift her head. She could imagine the slack-jawed look of awe Kay got whenever she saw Ema practicing her magic. Ema figured she probably had the same look on her face whenever she watched Kay practice her dagger twirling or her form with the wakizashi. 

One of the runes seemed to crackle, and Ema flinched. There wasn’t any sound, yet she heard a sharp crackle like an angry snap of a whip. Or the onslaught of a coming storm with a mind of its own.

She wasn’t in the forest anymore. Thunder crackled outside of a window, casting angry shadows through a thin layer of fog. Ema huddled in the tiny bedroom she shared with Lana. Her sister wasn’t back yet, even though it must’ve been in the middle of the night. It wasn’t the first time this happened, and Ema it wouldn’t be the last. She couldn’t sleep like this. She couldn’t sleep alone, not knowing what kind of exhausted, haunted state her sister would be in when she returned. She couldn’t sleep with only the shadows of Judgement Peak to keep her company.

Lana had always known that Ema had an affinity for magic. She knew that had a potential that could surpass her own, yet she would only allow Ema to practice when she was home, when the curtains were drawn. It was like their own little secret. 

It was like their own little game. Lana would bring home tomes that Ema could practice with, but Ema could never be caught by someone else. Lana never really told her why, but Ema played along all the same. She remembered Lana’s smile every time Ema successfully conjured a flame or make lightning crackle on her fingertips. Ema remembered wanting to make sure Lana could smile as much as possible, so she started studying magic on her own. It was a comforting thing.  

Another flash of lightning blinded Ema, and she wasn’t as little anymore. 

She was maybe ten or twelve, huddling by a fire she cast herself. She was teaching herself more complicated spells, even when Lana wasn’t home to watch her, not that she was home often anymore. Even then, the elemental spells were coming to her more and more easily. There was always the stack of tomes in the corner that Ema wanted to look over, but Lana warned her not to go through. They were bound tightly to dark covers, so Ema knew they weren’t elemental. And Lana did warn her not to practice new kinds of magic without supervision.

Ema figured she could always just practice her Thunder magic again. It came to her the easiest, even though Lana always said she had trouble with it. Ema wasn’t even sure why she liked it so much. It was pretty she supposed, but whenever she cast Thunder, it felt like she was holding the storms of Judgement Peak in her palm, and she wasn’t afraid of them anymore.

Ema didn’t even need to mutter incantations under her breath anymore; she just raised her hands, concentrating. Runes sparked to life. The tome flipped open on it’s own, rising into the air. A small smile of satisfaction worked its way onto Ema’s face as—

As the door burst open. Ema jumped with a shriek. The tome went flying. The runes fizzled out violently just in time for Ema to focus on the behemoth standing in the doorway. Ema had only seen him a handful number of eyes, but he had a commanding presence and a terrifying way with people. Just behind his billowing robes was Lana, eyes wide with terror, hands covering her mouth.

Another blink, and she was sitting at a table surrounded by stacks of tomes. She felt tired, exhaustion clinging to her eyelids, always on the cusp of a yawn. Lana never looked any better, but they could study together out in the open, so it couldn't be all bad, right?

At least, that was what Ema told herself.

Under the suffocating watch of Lana’s mentor, Ema threw herself into her magic studies. She had practically mastered Thunder magic, something Damon Gant enjoyed pointing out. After all, it was one of his favorites too. 

She could get the hang of Wind magic, and Thunder magic felt like second nature to her, but Fire proved too wild of a beast to conquer. Ema shivered. No matter what, it always felt like she was falling behind in her studies. Learning magic didn’t feel  _ fun _ anymore, but she had to keep going. It felt like her life depended on it. The times when it felt like she could relax, it felt like it was Lana’s life on the line. 

Finally, Gant gave up on Ema mastering all of the elements. She could conjure Wind and cast Fire, but her ability was nowhere near her mastery of Thunder magic. Finally, she could breathe.

Well, that was what she thought.

Gant pushed Lana to learn darker forms of magic, but he would take Ema away to deeper corners of the library. It was a known fact that the library on Judgement Peak held tomes for ancient magics, but there wasn’t any hope for an outsider to study them. 

Those magics defied classification beyond light and dark, elemental and animal. They weren’t particularly weak to any of those types either. They were just painful to learn. Many days and nights were under Gant’s keen piercing eyes. The first spell she learned under Gant was Sagittae, which summoned a hail of arrows made of blinding light.

She was always something of a bookworm, so properly casting the spell from a tome wasn’t too difficult. She managed it under a week. A week of four hours of sleep a night. A week of eating nothing but gruel that was too dry or too soggy, tasting of sawdust. A week of not seeing a hair of Lana.

Trying to cast Sagittae without the tome did not come as easily. At most, all she could conjure were a few desperate sparks that sharpened like needles . If she was lucky, they would flash brilliantly before fading to nothing.

Gant’s disappointment was something else entirely. When Ema was learning from the tome before, Ema was afraid of him, but she knew that he wouldn’t do anything as long as she succeeded. His anger was focused on a certain point. 

When Ema hit her breaking point, Gant snapped. The fear that was bubbling in her became realized. 

_ “Ema!” _ There was a hand on her shoulders, and instinctively she flinched away. The hand jerked back, like it was burned. “Ema it's me! It's Kay!”

Gingerly, hands reached out for hers. They were smaller—nowhere near the size of a grown man’s. The fingertips were calloused but gentle, bringing Ema’s hands up to the sides of a face in front of her.

“Kay,” Ema croaked. Her hands were shaking, but she steadied her breath to match Kay’s. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

Kay slowly brought Ema’s hands down, linking their fingers together. “Don't be sorry. We both know it's that bastard’s fault.” Her eyes flickered down to the tome lying on the ground. “Ema, are you sure you want to be pushing yourself like this?”

“What do you mean?” Ema squeezed Kay’s hands before releasing them. Slowly, she got up on shaky legs. She picked the tome off the ground, wiping some imaginary dust off the cover.

“I mean—” Kay waved a frantic hand at Ema’s form. “Like  _ this.  _ Every time you practice you're losing sleep. You either end up frustrated or you—you end up—look, maybe we should just call it a night this time.”

“Do you mean that?” Ema whispered. She stared blankly at the cover, as if she could rip out its secrets through sheer willpower.

“ _ I  _ do. It kills me every night I watch you torture yourself over this.” Kay ran a hand through her bushy ponytail. “I know this means a lot to you but—” Kay shrugged. “I don't know what to tell you. Please,  _ please _ take care of yourself.” 

Ema didn't respond, only nodding stiffly. Tears were threatening to spill over, and Ema wished she could bury herself in her jacket. Instead, she leaned against a tree, letting the bark scrap her jacket as she slid to the ground. Kay was by her side in an instant. Ema focused on Kay’s warmth pressing into her side. Kay was her anchor, always keeping her grounded.

“Ema, can I ask you something?” 

Ema turned to look at Kay, but she was staring ahead blankly. “Sure,” Ema answered uneasily. “What is it?”

“Why?” Kay’s voice had a slight shake, like water threatening to spill over the edges of a glass. “Why do you want to learn Bolganone so badly?”

“Oh.” Ema blinked. “I never told you?”

Kay shook her head. “No.”

“ . . . Oh.” Ema blinked again, resembling something of a goldfish. “Oh really?”

“Yeah really,” Kay grinned, even though her eyes were a little watery. “I’m a little offended, actually.”

“Well  _ excuse me. _ ” Ema rolled her eyes. “To be fair, you never asked.”

“Well?” Kay nudged her. Her voice was steady now. “What’s the story? As your girlfriend, I’m offended.”

“Jeez, calm down.” Ema winced, rubbing her side. “Stop that. Your elbows are impossibly bony, you know that? You’re a stick.”

“Excuse me?” Kay set a hand on her chest in mock offense. “I’m a  _ master. Ninja _ . If you’re gonna call me a stick at least call me a badass stick.”

“Okay  _ fine. _ ” Ema rolled her eyes. “You’re the most badass stick I know. Can I just tell the story now? The more it gets drawn out the less impressive it’ll be, and then you’ll just be disappointed.”

“Well maybe if you’d stop deflecting—” Kay grinned as Ema gave her the driest, most deadpan looks in the history of deadpan looks. “I’m joking, I’m joking!”  

“Thank you.” Ema glued her eyes to the cover of Bolganone, studying every crease in the leather cover. “It’s really not much. You know I used to live on Judgement Peak, right?”

Kay nodded, her brow furrowing slightly. “Yeah. I know you mentioned it once a while back. And I know that you that you don’t like to talk about it.”

“Yeah. Lana and I had the same teacher. His name was Damon Gant.” 

Kay frowned. She turned to look at Ema, though not out of pity. Her shoulders were tense, her shaking fingers curled into fists. Silently, Kay curled her own fingers on top of Ema’s. “I’ve heard the name.”

Ema nodded. “His magic prowess is terrifying. Even with that alone he could’ve gotten a position in the Ortan army, but because he’s well-versed in tactics he could call on forces from the grand army if he wanted to.”

Kay winced. “Another general then.”

“Another general,” Ema confirmed. “And Lana was his favorite student. We both had a ton of magical talent, but I didn’t start till later because uh . . .” Ema rubbed the back of her neck. “Gant’s not the kind of guy you want to learn from exactly. Lana kept my talent a secret from him.”

“I’m guessing not for long though.” 

“Yeah. He found out, then he started uh—tutoring me one on one. Wasn’t fun.” Ema lifted her free hand, letting a spark of lightning arc off her fingertip. “He ended up liking me more than Lana because I had an affinity of thunder magic like he does. Lana’s better with fire magic.”

“Fire magic?” Kay repeated. “So that’s why—” Her eyes fell on the red-covered tome. “Bolganone.”

“Her favorite spell.” Ema swallowed. “I wanted to learn it so I can show her when we find her. I want to be able to use it so when I look Gant in the eye, he'll know that this was the price for taking my sister from me.”

For a moment, Kay was silent. For another awful moment, Ema wondered if she said too much. Besides her sister, Kay was perhaps the one person in the world that Ema felt like she could trust with anything.

“Wow, that got intense didn't it?” Ema forced a chuckle, moving to pry her fingers out of Kay’s grip. “It's been a long day, I'm getting a little tired. We should probably just—”

“Whoa whoa, slow down.” Kay frowned a bit. “It was just a lot of process is all.” Kay grinned, bright as the moon. “You know, you aren't the only person who thinks that way, right? At least there's a chance you could run into Gant and wipe the floor with him. Your sister is out there somewhere! And we can find her together! It's just uh—” Kay swallowed, her voice trailing off at the end. “At least you have that chance, okay? And all of us have your back. You know that right?”

Ema nodded, her vision going blurry around the edges as she sniffled. “Of course.”

“And you know I'd walk through fire for you, right?”

Ema rolled her eyes. “Who's being intense now?”

Kay pouted. “I thought that sounded pretty cool!”

“You sounded like a dork.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be action/fight scenes, I promise! It wouldn't be Fire Emblem without them haha


	4. Darkening Skyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIGHT SCENE FIGHT SCENE FIGHT SCENE

For the first time in a while, Ema woke up feeling refreshed. Lighter. She felt like she could walk with a ninja-like spring in her step. Maybe she was being unnaturally optimistic, considering they were getting closer and closer to Judgement Peak. Or maybe it was because she felt like a huge weight in her heart had lifted.

Her gaze fell on the tome lying on the dewy grass at her feet. Huh. Looked like Ema didn't think she and Kay were that tired after first watch, but they just collapsed against Blue's flank after they woke a couple people up for second watch.

Guess deep talk late at night took a lot more out of them than a full-on Ortan assault.

As they cleaned up camp and finished breakfast, Ema could tell tensions were running high. Apollo’s grip on his bow was so tight, she could see it tremble. Clay and Pearl were double checking their vulnerary supplies. Klavier was humming to himself nervously, sharpening his lance. Maya had her back turned to the group, practicing her magic. 

With the rate they were traveling, the group would only make it to the base of the mountain. Maybe they'd run into a few stray patrols, but Ema wasn't expecting another major force. Not until they started making their way up the mountain. Slowly, they were regaining their strength and their spirits.

Being the only flier Apollo had, she was usually the one who'd scout ahead. Ugh. She really needed to figure out an invisibility spell or something. She couldn’t rely on cloud cover all the time. Luckily, Judgement Peak was perpetually covered by clouds, even at its base. 

Just as she thought, it was all clear. Dipping Blue a little lower, Ema scanned the ground, and  _ oh wow the ground _ —green, green, more green, some brown, some dull gray. Wow, what a surprise. Nothing but the trees, the ground, and a fortress up ahead with Ortan forces streaming into it—

Wait what? 

Ema chanced another glance back down, and came back up swearing. Tugging sharply on Blue’s reins, Ema’s mind was racing as she zipped back to the forest. 

“How’s it look?” Apollo asked. He took in her dishevelled hair, her heavy breathing, the shaky way she slid off of Blue. As he did, the tension that he was carrying seemed to multiply, the furrows of his brow cutting canyons into his face. “Is it that bad?”

“They’ve been busy in the two years I’ve been gone.” Ema tightened the pink strip of cloth serving as a headband. The ends were starting to fray, but she hardly took it off except to clean it. Even now, she worried an end between her fingertips. “There’s an entire outpost there now, probably full of troops by now. I used the cloud cover, but if they had sorcerers with them, it’s possible they detected me and Blue anyway. I wouldn’t be surprised if they called reinforcements.”

Apollo didn’t even sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “How far away is the outpost?”

“An hour’s march, tops.”

“Do we know how fast any potential reinforcements can get there?”

“Well, if we’re going to assume they’re going to use every possible advantage . . .” Maya rested her chin in the palm of her hand. “Then we could assume that they had sorcerers make transportation sigils. Then they’d have reinforcements in seconds.”

Clay stepped forward, putting a hand on Apollo’s shoulder before he could explode from the stress. “We’ve been outnumbered before. We can do this.”

Klavier scoffed, though it was borne from exhaustion rather than annoyance. “We’re always outnumbered.”

“He’s right.” Apollo shrugged off Clay’s hand, stepping forward. “We've always been outnumbered, but that's never stopped us from being able to move forward. They've always been underestimated our skills, and that's what caused their defeat.” He punched a hand into his open palm before stepping over to Trucy, resting a hand on her shoulder. For a moment, Ema could swear they were siblings. “I know we all decided to follow Phoenix for different reasons, and I know that some of our resolve has wavered in the past several days. But no matter the enemy that’s been waiting for us at the end, we’ve beaten them and whatever they’ve managed to throw at us. We’re so much closer to answers than before. We can’t afford to hesitate now.”

There was a beat of silence, one filled only by the sound of rustling leaves and Ema’s own nervous heartbeat.

“So . . .” Clay drawled. “Did you practice that one? Write it down first? Rehearse it to my horse or something?”

Apollo mock scowled. “I’ll have you know I worked pretty hard on that speech.”

“What he means to say is that he just came up with it about ten minutes ago.” Klavier flicked his bangs out of his face. “And just decided to wing it.”

“Wow okay.” Apollo’s mouth did a weird thing, twisting into one corner of his face. Like an actual scowl, but somehow more constipated. “Rude.”

“If it makes you feel better, it wasn’t half bad!” Clay swung himself onto his saddle, flashing Apollo a grin.

“Both of you are awful,” Apollo grumbled. “If I could I’d make both of you march on foot.”

* * *

 

Between the three musketeers, the march stayed colorful. As much as Ema rolled her eyes, they helped keep things light, even for her. Especially for her. Even though Ema woke up with a contentment she lacked for two years, that light and breezy feeling ebbed away. The closer they got to the mountain, the more a leaden weight pooled in the pit of Ema’s stomach. Unconsciously, her fingers clenched Blue’s worn leather reins. 

This was a different kind of anxiety. This was dread. 

As usual, Apollo led the march. With his eyesight, he could see threats coming from miles away. Given how dishevelled Ema was when she got back to the camp, they figured they should play their cards as safely as possible.

After clearing the forest, the terrain up the mountain was littered with dead gnarled trees and jagged rocks. The cloud cover was as heavy as a wool blanket. The place hadn’t changed a bit. 

Suddenly Apollo stopped and tensed, holding out his hand. Even though Ema could only see his back, she knew him long enough to know that he was squinting, rubbing at the bracelet on his wrist. Nothing but trouble could be up ahead.

It was like a switch flipped within their little ragtag army. Blades were drawn, tomes were readied. Tension had them ready to pounce at the slightest sign of danger. Adrenaline began to thrum in their veins.

“I'm going up.” Ema didn't wait for Apollo’s nod; she knew she was going to get it anyway. 

Blue shot to the sky, zooming to the clouds. Ema squinted, trying to focus. Was that the wind whistling in her ear . . . ?

Ema cursed, yanking on the reins to pull Blue to the side. Judging from the looks of things, they called reinforcements. A couple arrows whizzed by, narrowly missing Blue’s flank. 

So they did bring Bow Knights after all. Ema was confident enough in her skill with wind magic to deflect them, but rushing back down to face them head-on would be suicide. She would have to trust her friends to take care of the archers. She could hurl some haphazard spells their way if she wanted to, but conserving that energy would serve her better. Her job was to pick off any of the Ortans’ air support. Once the archers were gone, she could help the others storm the outpost.

There was another whinny, and Ema could pick up the sound of forming runes from miles away. Blue veered to the side as a fireball sizzled by, going wide. Even from the winds whipping and the distance, Ema could still feel its scorching heat.

Whoever they were, they were  _ good _ .

Ema allowed a corner of her mouth to quirk up. Focusing on the armor of the enemy steed and rider, she realized it was more ornate, covered more. 

_ The outpost’s commander? With no air support? Fun. _

Of course, Ema always kept the possibility of backup in the back of her mind. If anything, she could do some scouting. Have a little fun before she needed to get serious. If she could lead the commander farther away from the outpost, then that would make taking it that much easier. Plus, that would give Ema a chance to go toe to toe (wing to wing?) with another Dark Flier.

Grasping her Bolt Lance in one hand, the other lying flat on the open tome attached to Blue’s saddle. Casting Arcwind behind them, Blue reared his head. With one flap of Blue's they were practically on top of the Ortan commander. Not wasting another second, Ema swung her Bolt Lance down—a two-handed blow.

Her adversary barely had to time raise their own lance. The jagged blade of Ema’s lance glanced off the metal pole, sparks flying. Veins of thunder magic arched off, latching on and racing up the commander's lance.

The commander let out a cry of pain, though it was distorted by the mask covering their face. The hood covering their face was hardly blown back, even with the strong winds.

Ema grinned. She was willing to bet that the other Dark Flier’s lance couldn't handle lightning like her Bolt Lance could. 

Using another gust of wind magic, she forced the commander back before curving away. She brought Blue into a steep nosedive, racing for the opposing Dark Flier. Bringing her body down close to the saddle, she could feel her heartbeat pulse in harmony with Blue’s. Ema didn't need a something as spectacular as a Thoron. A simple Thunder spell should do the trick.

“Witness the power of science!” Ema pointed directly at the other Dark Flier’s lance, a quick smatter of runes sparking at her fingertip. A thin bolt shot forward, ephemeral as a spiderweb. It joined with the power of the oncoming storm, tendrils forking off, connecting with the commander's lance. With a familiar shriek, the rider jolted violently. The lance slipped from the rider’s grasp, the pegasus bucking in the air. Ema smirked.  _ Victory _ .

That feeling didn’t last long.

The pegasus veered sharply in Ema’s direction, surrounded by a maelstrom of violent purple runes.

“ _ Oh shit _ !” Ema didn’t even have to jerk the reins. Blue could sense the danger, dipping his body lower. Ema strapped her Bolt Lance to the side of the saddle, extending both of her hands to prepare a counterspell. 

Considering the fact that she thought of herself as an elemental magic specialist, hitting dark magic head on wasn't the brightest idea she'd ever had.

With a loud whinny, Blue tucked his wings in, dipping below the path of the spell. Ema grunted a the jolt ripped away her focus, but patted Blue's mane anyways.

“Yeah, that was a smarter move,” Ema muttered. “Thanks buddy. Now let's go!”

Ema snapped the reins, readying her lance again. Instead of rushing forward, Blue shook his head. “What do you mean  _ no _ ?” Instead, Ema jerked the reins, narrowly missing a spiraling stream of Arcfire. “We're in the middle of a battle—” Ema extended her hand, returning fire with a blast of Thoron. “We don't exactly have time to debate this! Everyone's counting on us!”

This time Blue huffed, but relented. As Blue surged forward, Ema readied her lance. All she needed was one more solid strike. Just one. 

Ema raised her lance, lightning weaving across the metal, shooting up to her hands. The thrum of power darted up her arms, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. 

The opposing rider raised their hands, preparing another strike with dark magic. 

They raced towards each other, the power of their magic ripping away at the thick clouds around them. 

With a shrieking cry worthy of a war god’s, Ema swung her lance, lightning dancing behind it like an arc of destruction. It cleaved through the commander’s circle of runes. The dark energy emanating from the magic crackled before it vanished, like smoke in the wind. She made contact with something too, something solid. The jarring force made her arms shake and ache, but she grinned through the pain.

_ Victory. _

The outpost commander let out a cry of pain, hand flying up to their mask. There was a crack stretching from the top of the left eye, across the nose, ending on the underside of the right eye. The rider didn’t attack, instead bringing up their hand to cover their exposed face, grunting in pain. Ema only watched curiously, holding her lance out in front of her protectively.

The commander’s mask fell into the abyss below them, the two halves spiraling away. With nothing to hold their hood down, it was blasted off by the wind.

In an instant, Ema’s grin of triumph dropped.

The commander was a woman. Long chestnut hair billowed out, eyes as blue as the sky were screwing shut into a wince, a hand flying up to cover the cut across her face.

_ “L—Lana?” _ Ema croaked.

Now Ema understood Blue’s hesitation earlier. Gods, they were  _ fighting for their lives  _ and yet she couldn’t bring herself to raise her lance again. She was a hundred feet up in the air, feeling like she could freefall at any second. With an unmistakable fear in her heart, Ema forced herself to look at the commander once again.

Even though it had been two years since Ema had seen her face, even with a large gash— _ Oh gods  _ I did that—marring her face, the commander was Lana Skye.

The weight that had vanished when she woke had returned. It was a choking, suffocating thing. There were no coherent thoughts in Ema’s mind, simply despair punctuated by feelings of failure. After all this time, she failed to save her sister from Gant. After two years, she failed to become strong enough to save Lana. After all that time, after all that training she  _ failed _ .

All the adrenaline that was driving her strikes and fueling her fire left her. The crash coupled by such utter despair nearly made her throw up. She felt dizzy.

_ This can't be happening this can't be happening this can't _ —

She couldn't even find the will to raise her hands and defend herself as Lana stared her down, no hint of anything else other than cold calculation in her eyes. She raised a hand swirling with the power of dark magic. “Damon Gant is waiting for you at the top of Judgement Peak.”

“What are you—”

Ema cut herself off as she stared at Lana in disbelief, unable to finish her own sentence, only to watch her sister unleash a powerful Goetia spell. If it wasn't for Blue’s quick instincts, Ema would've taken the attack’s full might. Instead, it crackled painfully through her shoulder, the searing light making her eyes burn.

Numbly, she raised her head. Lana was gone, and she could only assume she used teleportation magic to escape.

Ema didn't remember what happened after that. She didn't remember limply directing Blue back to the ground. She didn't remember untangling herself from Blue's saddle, lurching off the side. She didn't remember falling into Kay’s arms, falling to her knees. She didn’t remember screaming and wailing until her throat was sore and her voice gave out. 

All she could remember was the cold empty look in Lana’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> I take constructive criticism at either my tumblr (@lawyersuperpowers) or the comments. See you next week!


	5. Plan For The Worst, Hope For The Best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for missing the update last week. Life gets in the way sometimes.

Ema awoke in an actual bed, looking up at stone ceiling. She had gotten so used to camping out she forgot what it felt like to wake up without a crackling back.

_Where am I?_ Rolling to her side, Ema spotted a simple tapestry with the insignia of the Ortan military displayed proudly on the center. _Am I at the outpost? What happened? Where's everyone else?_

Panic seized her as she threw off the covers. No Bolt Lance. No Blue. That was fine. This is fine. She felt well rested enough to throw enough Thunder spells to make up for it.

Pressing herself into the wall, Ema did her best to let the shadows swallow her. She just needed to figure out where the others were—If they were captured, why did I wake up in a bed?—not to mention Blue. Thankfully, it was just an outpost. An entire fortress would be a nightmare to navigate. But a fortress would be easier to hide in—

“You’re getting better,” a voice said. It took all of Ema’s willpower not to shriek, but she did jump about ten feet into the air. “But you’re still not as good as I am!”

Oh thank the gods. It was just Kay, arms crossed with a good-natured grin on her face.

“Gods Kay, I almost wet myself there jeez,” Ema grumbled. “Why aren’t you sneaking around? This is the outpost, isn’t it?”

Kay’s face fell into a smirk, and she tugged at the wrists of her gloves proudly. “Personally, I think I’m naturally sneaky enough for the both of us.” Ema rolled her eyes, which only prompted Kay to continue. “But we took the outpost. We won—sort of?”

“‘Sort of?’” Ema repeated. She felt a bit more relaxed, but anxiety and fear started creeping back up her spine. “What does that mean? No one—we all got out okay didn’t we?!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Kay raised her palms in front of her placatingly, stepping forward to grasp Ema’s shoulders. “We’re all fine. It’s just that all the troops just disappeared. One second I was knocking a paladin off their horse, the next all the Ortans were gone in a flash of light.”

A flash of light? Well, wasn’t that familiar . . . ?

“It was powerful transportation magic,” Ema explained. “Where's everyone else at? We should probably talk about our game plan, get everyone on the same page.”

“We’ll do that at dinner.” Kay gave Ema a concerned look. The one where her eyebrows crinkled together and the corners of her mouth drooped and her lower lip stuck out. The one that always felt like a punch in the gut. “You were out for a whole day you know. You sure you should be up and running around?”

“I'm fine. I mean, on a technical level, I haven't been running so.” Ema shrugged, trying not to wince. “I'm fine.”

“You didn't look fine.” Kay crossed her arms. “It wasn't anything Pearl and Clay couldn't fix, but you didn't look too great coming back down. What happened up there?”

Oh. Right. That.

The world blurred before her before coming back into focus, and with a start Ema realized tears were forming.

“Lana,” Ema croaked, rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I took on the outpost commander, one-on-one. They were wearing a hood and a mask, and I was able to knock it off.” She let out a sob, her chest heaving. “It was Lana. I was fighting Lana the whole time! I—I cut her face, I was trying to kill—”

Ema choked on her words, and Kay instantly wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Oh gods,” Kay murmured. “Oh gods. Look, we don’t have to talk about if you don’t want to—”

“That’s the thing.” Ema’s words came out harsher than she intended. She was trying to force the words out, afraid they’d just get stuck in her throat otherwise. “I’m telling Apollo. I’m telling everyone at dinner. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s working as Gant’s second-in-command.” Ema spat out the name with all the venom and ferocity of a viper. “If we’re going to Judgement Peak, then we’ll be facing Gant and his forces, including my sister. We need every advantage we can get.”

“A—Are you sure?” Kay frowned. “If she gets caught up in the fray there’s no telling if she’s going to come out in one piece.”

“There’s no telling if any of us will come out in one piece whenever we’re fighting,” Ema reminded her. “If anything, dinner time is the perfect time for us to make a plan. I’ll figure something out. I can figure out a way for us to beat Gant, save Lana, and make it out with the piece of the Fire Emblem.”

For a moment, Kay didn’t say anything. She just gave Ema a squeeze, rubbing her arms comfortingly. Finally, she said, “Everyone else is combing this place for supplies. I think there’s a room no one’s been able to get to yet. Let’s head there.”

It would give Ema some time to think about something else, away from other people. She always had a tendency to get . . . intense when it came to studying magic for combat, or training, or whatever else she wanted to improve for herself. Kay was giving her some distance from everyone else, giving her a chance to cool down and collect her thoughts. Smart.

Not that Ema was particularly surprised. They knew each other like the back of their hands.

It looked like a dusty old study. A couple sconces were in between bookshelves, which were stocked with some books, tomes, and a few maps of the surrounding area. If Ema had to guess, she’d say this doubled as the war room.

The tomes weren’t particularly exciting—not by Ema’s standards at least. For the most part, it looked like tomes of elemental magic. Just the basics: Wind, Fire, and Thunder. There were a couple of tomes for the most basic dark magic spell, Flux. Some for light magic. She grabbed those. If anything, they’d end up being useful if she—or anyone else—wanted to expand their arsenal. And as hopeful as Ema was, she couldn’t find any tomes for ancient magic. Not that she was particularly surprised.

“Gods, you’re so stubborn,” Kay said, unrolling a map. “You’re so—ugh! Do you still think you have to shoulder all of this alone?” She whacked the side of a bookshelf, sending out a small plume of dust.

“Kay, it’s not like that.” Even Ema’s voice sounded empty to her. Tired. Defeated. “I know what I saw. I saw my own sister two feet in front of me. I almost cleaved her face off, okay? She didn’t even say much of anything about it—”

“But did she say something?”

“I was just going to bring it up during dinner.”

“Ema what did she say?”

“Just that Damon Gant was waiting for us.”

Kay whacked the map against the edge of the table this time. “Then that’s perfect. Don’t you see? Haven’t you been waiting for an opportunity like this for two freaking years?”

“But—”

“But nothing!” Kay waved the rolled up map in the air frantically before jabbing it in Ema’s direction. “We’ll talk about it at dinner! We’ll make a plan! A really good plan that’ll knock the sense out of Gant and his forces and we’ll save Lana. Period. That’s all there is to it.”

Ema raised an eyebrow. “A lot can go wrong you know.”

“That’s why we’re going to plan over dinner,” Kay said. “We’ve just a ragtag bunch of kids knocking the socks off of Ortan troops left and right. We’ve won practically every single battle and skirmish we’ve been in. Give us a little credit Ema.”

Tired as she was, that got Ema to smile.

* * *

 

Dinner that night was a good one. Their dried leftovers were always decent, but after raiding the outpost’s supplies, they were able to eat fresh bread and cheese. There was even meat and milk. They were able to eat to their hearts’ content. None of them would have to go to sleep even a little hungry.

“Gods,” Maya spoke through a mouthful of food. She heated up a hunk of meat and cheese with a snap of her fingers before stuffing them into her sandwich. “This is so good. I could die happy just about now.”

Pearl let out a squeak, waving her arms frantically. “Please don’t die Mystic Maya!”

Apollo winced. “Yeah. Please don’t.”

Once the laughter died down, Ema cleared her throat. “We should probably get down to business before we all end up falling asleep.”

In an instant, the atmosphere took a more somber tone. Clay pushed his food around his plate. Klavier was fiddling with his hair, a nervous tic. Internally, Ema cringed. She could’ve been more tactful if she wanted to. If she tried.

Apollo cleared his throat. “Right. Of course.” He crossed his arms, an index finger poking at his forehead. “Ema. You fought the outpost commander. Did they give you any clues?”

Well that was fast.

“They gave me a couple. First: I know once we reach the summit, we’ll have to face off with Damon Gant and his forces. Second: the outpost commander will most likely be at that battle. She’s his second in command.” Ema steepled her fingers, humming to herself. “But those are the only things I know for sure. There’s a couple of other things, but it’s just conjecture based on my background knowledge.”

No one said anything. She only got stares ranging from interested and intense (Apollo, Klavier), to blank and tired (Clay, Pearl). Maya and Kay, as much as they goofed around, always got the job done when it counted the most.

“If we can take out Gant, then most—if not all—of his forces should surrender,” Ema continued. “Considering how he ran things when I was there, it's safe to assume that not every mage is fighting of their own volition.” Ema grimaced. “Gant has a . . . a way with people. I don't know if he's using blackmail or something like that or if it's all just sheer intimidation, but he has a way of bending people to his will.”

Trucy let out a hum, tapping her chin. “Do you know if he uses magical means?”

The implications for Lana made Ema’s stomach churn. “I don't think he did. But even if it turns out to be the case, killing Gant would take care of it. And another thing—the outpost commander's exact words were ‘Damon Gant is waiting for you at the top of Judgement Peak.’ He's been expecting us. I'd even go as far to say that he's eager to face us.” Ema’s eyes narrowed. “Have you guys found a transportation sigil?”

Maya cleared her throat. “We found one on the roof upstairs. I was going to bring that up next actually.”

Klavier jerked upright. “You found one? And didn't destroy it?”

Maya shook her head. “Trucy and I looked at it. It can only be used once, and only in one direction. If I had to guess, it’d probably send us straight to the peak.”

“You sure it won’t send us somewhere like the bottom of the ocean?” Clay’s face was resting in the palm of his hand. It was a miracle he was still awake. Usually he fell asleep as soon as they finished dinner. “Because that’d be really convenient. For them, anyways.”

Ema shook her head. “Gant’s always been an egomaniac. He’ll want tangible proof that he defeated us, and he’ll want to watch it happen. That sigil will take us to the top of Judgement Peak, and that’s where our fight is. I’m willing to bet my life on it.”

Apollo nodded. “Then that’s the plan. We’ll take the fight to them. If Judgement Peak is as full of mages as you say, then we’ll need our own magic-users on the front lines. Is there anything else we should know?”

Ema felt an elbow nudge her side. Oh right. That. Steeling herself, Ema took a deep breath. “There is one other thing. You guys know how I’ve been looking for my sister right?” She kept her eyes glued to the table as she received a chorus of affirmatives. She swallowed. “I fought her yesterday. She was the outpost commander. She’s Gant’s second in command.”

Apollo took a deep breath. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

Ema looked up sharply, sparks flying off her fingertips. “What exactly does that mean?”

“You said that there’s a good chance a lot of the enemies there might not be fighting willingly.” Apollo narrowed his eyes, tapping his finger more incessantly on his forehead. “I don’t know if that means they’ll be holding back or not, but as long as we can take out Gant fast enough, they should lay down their arms.”

“ . . . Right.”

“So here’s the plan!” Apollo unrolled a map, one large enough to cover the table. “The fortress on Judgement Peak is here—” he pointed to a gray rectangle. “And surrounded by a thick forest and tough terrain. Infantry soldiers would be best suited for the environment, so we probably don’t have to worry about too many mounts and fliers.” He looked up sharply. “Except for Lana. Trucy’s wind magic is the strongest. She can keep her at bay.”

Ema nodded. “Sounds good. Who’s taking care of Gant?”

Apollo grinned. “You’re one of our strongest mages, and with Blue you could get to him the quickest. Besides, I think the honor belongs to you.”

Ema smirked, flexing her fingers. “It would be my pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is the Big Fight Scene. See you guys next week (hopefully)!


	6. Rise From The Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last fight, and the last major chapter. All that's left is the epilogue, and it'll be significantly shorter than the previous chapters.

They were sure to turn in early that night. It wasn’t too hard, considering that was the first time they went to bed with full stomachs and soft mattresses. 

Waking up wasn’t too hard this time around either. She woke up nestled in Kay’s arms (which was always a plus), which included a mouthful of bushy ponytail (not as great), and Kay somehow stealing Ema’s leather jacket (Ema still wasn’t sure how that happened—science couldn’t explain it). It wasn’t really that bad of a deal.

Walking up to the transportation sigil, Ema couldn’t help but marvel at the comrades at her side. No—they were more than that. They were her family, forged by the last two years of hardship and tragedy. Even if they joined later, like how Apollo and Clay defected from Kristoph’s platoon several months ago. Even if they were completely annoying, like Klavier. 

Joining the others inside the boundaries of the transportation sigil, Ema took a deep breath, savoring the quiet breeze. Who knew what would be waiting for them on the other side. Everyone was on their guard. Mages and magic users in training had their tomes open, hands splayed, ready to react at a moment’s notice.

“Everyone ready?” Ema asked. Once everyone gave their affirmatives, she got to work. 

It would be a little difficult to get it to work without knowing where the other side would spit them out, but it wasn’t impossible. Especially not for Ema Skye.

The transportation magic washed over them like a wave of cold. It passed quickly, everyone shaking off the effect as they readied their weapons and themselves. With a grunt, Ema slung herself onto Blue’s saddle, scanning their battlefield. 

Everything from the type of sloping trees to the dreary sky was familiar. Without a doubt, they were at the summit of Judgement Peak.

They were surprisingly close to the fortress. It loomed over them, so tall it looked like it could brush the stormy clouds. She could make out a figure, glinting in the distance. Immediately, her stomach flip-flopped, jumping to her throat. It had been a couple years since she’d been in his presence, but . . .

Instinctively, she knew.

“I have been waiting for you Ema Skye!” Gant boomed. “I want to witness your power first hand! Allow me to be the judge of your prowess, and allow me the pleasure of being your executioner!” He let out a cackle, echoing into the open air. “I’ll be waiting for you!”

With a snap of his fingers, he disappeared in a flash of light, rematerializing at the top of the fortress. All that left were his foot soldiers, the mages from the village atop Judgement Peak.

“He's been waiting . . . ?” Ema muttered. “As in, waiting all night?” 

“There was no way he could’ve known when we were coming, right?” Apollo asked. He’d drawn his bow and nocked an arrow, though it was simply resting in front of him, pointing at the ground.

Ema shook her head. “There’s no way. He must’ve been up all night.” She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know how to explain it, but something seems . . . off about him. That doesn’t make him any less dangerous or powerful though.”

“Just be careful Ema.” Kay stepped up, boosting herself on one of the stirrups, grabbing one of Ema’s hands. The next moment, she was pressing a kiss on Ema’s lips. That split second lasted for an eternity, and still, it wasn’t long enough. Kay pulled away with a smirk, stepping off. “Everyone could use a little luck.”

“R—Right.” Ema cleared her throat, hoping to stave off the blush that spread from her neck clear to the tips of her ears. She didn’t have a mirror, but she knew it wasn’t working. “Of course. Scientifically speaking, I’ve been careful one-hundred percent of the time so—” Ema cleared her throat again. “I mean, of course I will.”

“I don’t see many archers,” Apollo said. “I know you have countermeasures for arrows, but be careful all the same.”

Ema grinned. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

With the reins in one hand and Bolt Lance in the other, Ema took to the sky. The wind ripping into her face made her eyes water. Blinking rapidly, Ema barely took notice of the arrows and mess of spells headed her way.

Urging Blue into a spin, she swung her lance out wide, letting it trail behind her. Lightning coalesced around the jagged tip as it had done so many times before, this time joined by ribbons of green Wind magic swirling around them. 

The magic acted as a protective shield, sizzling away any arrows heading their way and giving them the speed to move past the enemies on the ground. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Ema watched a dark shape zip up from the fortress. It was heading her way. And fast. Red runes spiraled around the rider, and Ema could see the distant air start to shimmer from the heat.

She had hoped it wouldn’t have come to this. 

“Lana  _ stop! _ ” Ema screamed. “You don’t have to keep fighting!”

Her cries went unanswered.

Streams of Arcfire were blasted her way. They were curling over each other, writhing like snakes. Ema let out a cry, swinging her lance across the length of her body. A towering arc of Wind and Thunder magic was unleashed, cleaving through the fearsome display of Fire magic. It didn’t stop as the fire dissipated. Even though Ema’s attack had weakened significantly, it still hit Lana and her steed head-on.

“Sorry Lana,” Ema muttered. “But I’m going to need you to move.”

Ema didn’t slow down, letting off another pulse of Wind magic to send Lana spinning. It would keep her out of the way, and hopefully it would get the message across. She didn’t have time to stop.

As she neared the top of the fortress, she started at the sight of Gant. He grinned as soon as he saw her, face lighting up with what Ema could only describe as anticipation.

Ema growled, tying her Bolt Lance to Blue’s saddle. She wouldn't be needing it for what came next. As she urged Blue into a nosedive, Ema reached back into the satchel, grasping the spine of a tome. Clutching it close to her chest, Ema released Blue’s reins. As the pegasus skimmed the ground, Ema vaulted, rolling cleanly on the ground.

The man in front of her was dressed a bit differently from the other arcanists. While the official colors of Ortus were scarlet and gold, most arcanists chose to wear heavy black cloaks, as if their study of the dark arts was more important than their allegiance to their kingdom. 

Gant wore so much gold it hurt to look at him. He was garishly dressed with bright medallions and rings covering his fingers. Even his cloak was lined with thick golden threading and embroidery. Under the setting sun, it looked like he was reflecting flashes of scarlet like a demon. His arrogant grin ate up the lower half of his face, not unlike a large crack in a demented porcelain doll. 

He hadn’t changed a bit. The way he held himself was the same, broad and imposing like the stone walls of a castle or a fortress. Ema might have been older, taller, stronger  _ now _ , but she couldn’t stop the quake in her knees, the trembling of her fingertips. She knew she could take on an entire squadron of pegasus knights by herself, but in front of this man, this  _ monster _ , Ema never felt so incapable in her life.

It wasn't just that she stood in Lana’s shadow in more ways than one. Most times, it was a good thing. At least, it was for Ema. Every night when they went to bed, Lana would say something about how the more Gant’s focus and harsh training was on her, the less pressure that would be on Ema. Looking back now, it felt like Lana was trying to reassure herself more than Ema. As time went on, even those words sounded hollow to Ema’s ears, and Lana retreated into herself, becoming colder and colder until Ema didn't know her anymore.

But she supposed that didn't stop Lana from taking Ema and fleeing when she had the chance and the courage years later. Even then, she needed someone else's help—Mia Fey’s help—to find a safe refuge. Not that it lasted long.

Gant’s rumbling laugh shook Ema out of her thoughts. “Ho ho! No words for me, eh?” He clapped his hands gleefully, the sound reverberating like a clap of thunder. “I'm disappointed, Ema Skye.”

Ema didn’t trust herself to come up with a witty retort out of fear her voice would shake. And she couldn’t afford to let an ounce of fear show. She came too far for that. 

_ Breathe _ , Ema reminded herself. She flicked open the tome, holding it close to her chest. 

Gant’s beady little eyes had a flare to them, smoldering like hot coals, glowing with a power that slumbered beneath the surface. Ema swallowed. Even his aura had a magnitude to it, just waiting to be unleashed. Ema had been dreaming of this day for the better part of two years. And still, she couldn’t bring herself to speak. 

Gant roared a throaty laugh, and for a moment Ema was sure he unhinged his jaw. “There are no more gods on this earth, no more dragons!” He took a step forward, gnashing his teeth at the pain. “But to these insects?” He swept his hand out, blasting a wave of foul magic in Ema’s direction. Raising a hand, she muttered a quick incantation to shield herself, but the force of the blast pushed her back several feet. “What’s the power to rend the earth itself to a mortal? To bend life and death to your will? To control the heavens, the harvest?”  Gant laughed again, this time a shrieking guffaw that made the hairs on the back of Ema’s neck stand on end. “To them, I must be a god!” 

“No,” Ema finally managed. “You’re not.”

Gant simply snarled, letting another Miasma loose. This time, Gant’s dark magic broke through Ema’s shield, blasting her off her feet. The Bolganone tome slipped out of her hands, landing just out of reach. She pushed herself to her feet, wincing. “What would you know about godhood?”

The sky was overcast before, but now the cloud cover had thickened so dramatically it might have well been a night sky devoid of stars or moonlight. Spidery veins of lightning flashed through the clouds, throwing dark jagged shadows to the ground. The hairs on the back of Ema’s neck stood on end as Gant raised his hands. Runes crackled to life around his palms, and Ema’s eyes widened. She was as good at Thunder magic as anyone. She could recognize a Thoron from a mile away.

And right now, there was one headed for her face. 

Ema spun away just in time as a focused bolt of pure energy sizzled close enough the singe her hair and clothes. Clutching a hand to her chest, she charged up her own Thoron. Out of the corner of her eye, she just caught a flash of black  unsheathing a wakizashi.

Ema thrust her hand out, angled to just catch Gant’s side. Gant jerked away, the edges of the spell just charging past the edges of his cloak. She smiled triumphantly as Fant cackled at her seemingly poor aim.

_ Way to take the bait. _

Just as quickly as Gant’s smile formed, it gave way to a roar of pain. 

Kay’s wakizashi flashed, as quick and precise as a viper, coming away with red. As Gant arched back, Kay used his face as a stepping stone. Vaulting through the air, Kay landed next to Ema, light as a feather.

“You know I’ve always got your back, right?” Kay flicked the blood off her blade, eyeing Gant disdainfully.

“Technically, you got  _ his _ back.” Ema eyed Gant, who was absolutely seething now. “You got him pretty good, but—”

“Yeah, he looks pretty pissed now, doesn’t he?”

“Just watch out for any tricks, okay?”

“Of course.” Even without looking, she knew Kay flashed her a radiant smile and a wink. “You’ve got mine, and I’ve got yours. I’m not going anywhere.”

“How sweet,” Gant snarled. “So sweet I’m disgusted.”

“Imagine how I feel,” Ema spat. “Having to see you again.”

To her surprise, Gant laughed, clapping his palms together. His hands reverberated with a sharp bang like he could wield thunder in his fists.   

“There's that spirit!” Gant cackled madly. “I can always appreciate a little fire in my students.”

“Okay,” Kay muttered. “This guy is giving me the creeps. Can we get this over with?”

“With pleasure.”

Kay relying on her wakizashi for this fight meant that she’d be caught in close quarters with Gant. With her speed, she should be able to get in close enough that it’d be difficult for him to retaliate—

Ema shook her head. She was overthinking things here. All she needed to do was trust Kay and her capabilities. If anything, she needed to worry about herself more. And where she threw out her Thorons.

Gant wasn’t the type to fall for the same trick twice, yet as Ema shot another bout of crackling Elthunder that  _ just _ caught his side, he swiped for the spell again. He left his flank open again, and Kay darted forward, slashing wide. With each cut opening up, the more blood soaked into his heavy robes. Lightning fast, Kay was at Ema’s side again.

“I really wish I had a poisoned shuriken or something,” Kay muttered. “It would make this a lot easier.”

“Agreed.” Ema splayed her fingers, allowing a web of Arcthunder to intercept Gant’s incoming Ruin spell. “But then I wouldn’t be able to get what I came here for.”

“Yeah yeah, revenge and all that.” Kay shot Ema a cocky smirk. “But you know, you’re hot when you’re fighting.”

Ema rolled her eyes, even though there was smile creeping on her face and a fierce blush coloring her cheeks. “There’s a time for everything, you know.” She shot another Thoron, this time headed straight for Gant. He didn’t even raise a hand to defend himself, simply taking the full brunt of the attack. “I told you, something’s not right. He’s off. He’s not even defending himself anymore. It’s almost like . . . like he’s waiting. He’s got some kind of ace up his sleeve.”

“I nicked him a bunch of times, but it barely looks like he’s slowing down. If anything, he looks like he could keep going.”

“Yeah. No kidding.” 

_ What’s his game? _

“What wrong? Running out of energy?” Gant called out to them with a madman’s grin; all teeth and eyes blazing with a simmering rage. He  _ tsked _ , shaking his head with disappointment. “Very well!”

Gant whipped out his hands, palms facing them. Circles of magic flared to life in front of him, blinding white. Ema’s eyes widened, sensing danger, pins and needles and shivers racing down her back.

_ Ancient magic. _

There was a pause, just long enough for a single heartbeat to rumble in her ears. The next instant—

_ Pain. _

Needles. Razor sharp and searing hot. Ripping. Ripping through her. Ripping through Kay. Ripping her breath away.  _ No no no no _ —

Ema gasped, clutching at her chest. Her vision blurred, but she could still take a couple more hits. Kay, on the other hand, didn’t have Ema’s magical resistance. Ema could hear her scream and wretch as the pain forced her to the ground.

_So this is the true power of Sagittae_ , Ema thought to herself. _How fitting._

Ema’s mind was racing. Terror and panic were clawing at her heart. Kay needed to get out of this situation,  _ now _ . Gathering her focus, Ema unleashed a net of furious Arcthunder at Gant, whistling for Blue.

“You need to get out of here!” Ema yelled. “You’ve helped plenty. I can take it from here. You can’t take another hit like that. You need to find Pearl or Clay.”

Kay got to her feet, arms wrapped around her stomach. Her breaths were shaky, and she almost dropped her wakizashi trying to get herself to her feet. The pegasus soared behind them, just beyond the walls of the fortress. With a weak halfhearted wave, Kay swan dived off the fortress, landing deftly on Blue’s saddle.

Ema heaved a sigh of relief as she watched Kay soar away. Now she didn’t have to worry about holding back. Gant only watched, not even raising a finger. He was composed, still as a dead tree. His manic grin was ever-present, his gaze never leaving Ema. As soon as he stepped forward, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull.

“I know you, little Skye. I’ve seen you cower in your sister’s shadow, shying away from your true potential. You could have had the world in your fist, the people on their knees! You could have ascended to godhood!” He cast a shrewd look off to the side, and cautiously, Ema followed his gaze. Not too far away, she could make out Lana’s form, zipping around on a pegasus, letting loose streams of dark magic on her friends. Ema swallowed. Gant laughed. “At least your sister has embraced the power that lies within her. You, on the other hand, will remain a shadow. You have rejected my gifts, and all that will remain of you is  _ ash _ !”

It was at that moment that all the puzzle pieces flew into place. Her simmering rage had plateaued into a calm. Ema held out a hand, and the forgotten tome flew into the air, hovering just in front of her. The leather cover glowed an incandescent red, the pages flying open, pulsing with a heat that was only matched by the fires of rage within her. She was ready for her storm to deliver his reckoning.

“We’ll just have to wait and see about that, won’t we?”

Gant growled, but the edge of arrogance was gone. He was hunched over, clutching at his wounds. His eyes darted around, like a cornered animal desperate for escape.

“Today is the day you will die little Skye,” Gant spat. 

“No.” Ema raised a hand, golden runes coalescing at Gant’s feet, encircling his body. In the smallest instant of time, Gant understood what had happened—what was going to happen. He lurched, an arm outstretched, faint runes sparking furiously at his fingertips. “Today is the day I've been waiting for my whole life.”

The floor beneath his feet bubbled, glowing red. Time slowed down, just in time for the runes to coalesce into the beginnings of a spell. Ema didn’t look too closely. It wouldn’t matter to him anymore. 

Gant bared his teeth, letting out a roar. “I am a  _ GOD!  _ You’re nothing but an insect!”

“Well then.” Ema smiled. “Consider this divine retribution.”

In the span of a blink, a towering pillar of lava erupted from beneath his feet. The heat wave it let out was instantaneous, blistering. It whipped Ema’s loose hair around, crowning her head like a wild halo. Yet she did not blink. She did not step back or look away. Gant let out one last scream of rage before being swallowed within a caldera, the sound echoing in the air. 

Slowly, Ema exhaled. The tome began to float down into the hand that was outstretched. Her fingertips were buzzing, and all that she could hear was her heartbeat and the blood thundering in her ears.

The only thing left of Damon Gant was a column of ash, carried away on the winds.

“It’s over,” Ema breathed. “It’s finally over.”


	7. Epilogue

_ It’s all over . . . _

It was a moment Ema had been dreaming about practically her whole life. It still felt like a dream, one she was afraid to wake up from. 

A shadow swooped across the stonework, hooves  _ clip-clopping _ sharply, dust flying up as a jet black pegasus landed. Lana stumbled off of the saddle, unmasked and unhooded, exhausted and unbelieving. Ema couldn’t believe it either. Letting the tome drop from her hands, Ema nearly tripped over her own two feet as she sprinted over, sore and throbbing, collapsing into Lana’s arms with a sob.

It felt like they were there for an eternity, simply clinging to each other, and yet it felt like it wasn’t enough. It felt _ so  _ real, their quiet joyful sobs, Lana’s heartbeat, Lana’s smile.

Ema was on top of the world. Unfortunately, the world couldn’t wait for her.

What was left of Gant’s forces either fled or surrendered and it was clear which of those troops were loyalists and which were roped into fighting.

Clay and Pearl were going around to help the injured, and leadership fell to Lana. She took it in stride, working to turn Judgement Peak into the scholar’s haven it was meant to be.

It wasn’t just a victory for Ema and the rest of their cohort, but for the innocent people who lived under Gant’s thumb all these years. There were plenty of reasons to celebrate.

The Fire Emblem could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is easily the longest fic I've written, and thanks for sticking with me for this ride!
> 
> This AU definitely isn't over yet, but I'm not sure who the next focus character will be quite yet. I'm always open to suggestions at my tumblr @lawyersuperpowers!


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